


Footsteps

by ifitwasribald



Series: Steve Rogers Never Was a Boy Scout [4]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: BDSM, Control Kink, M/M, PWP, Quickies, Rape Fantasy, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-18
Updated: 2013-03-18
Packaged: 2017-12-05 16:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/725492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifitwasribald/pseuds/ifitwasribald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shameless porn.  Now with even less plot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Footsteps

**Author's Note:**

> Nobody actually cares about the title anyway, right? 'Cause seriously, that's a terrible title, but half an hour is absolutely all I was willing to spend trying to come up with a better one.

Tony ignored the footsteps behind him. He had just a couple more adjustments to the sensor grid to make, and anybody who JARVIS would have allowed into the lab wasn’t a threat and wouldn’t expect politeness from him anyway.

So he was still working when one hand clamped down over his upper arm, and another came to rest over his collar bone, just below his throat. Steve’s voice whispered into his ear. “I’ve got thirteen minutes before I need to leave for a briefing. And I can’t think of anything but how much I want to fuck you.”

The words shivered over Tony’s skin, dug in deep and raced through his blood. He was at half mast by the time Steve’s hand moved down to his groin, and by the time it slipped up and under his pants to touch him skin to skin he was fully hard. He let a little moan escape his lips. “Fuck, Steve. What you do to me.”

“What do you want me to do to you?”

“Everything. In the next thirteen minutes, apparently, so you better work fast.”

Steve grabbed him by the back of his shirt and shoved him around and over to the nearest wall. Tony took the hint and braced both hands against the concrete, and couldn’t contain a sound of anticipation when Steve’s rough hand unfastened his pants and pulled them down around his knees.

He felt Steve’s finger press into him, coated in lube but rough anyway, and he moaned again.

“Look at you. Ready for it any time I want.” He shoved in another finger and wiggled them both, spreading him. “You want it like this? So tight you’ll gasp on every thrust?” Steve’s fingers found Tony’s prostate flicked over it. The sharp sensation flooded Tony with need and he realized that it had taken Steve all of ninety seconds to reduce him to a quivering mess. A little embarrassing, that, but he couldn’t bring himself to mind.

“Do it.” Tony would have liked to think that he was more ordering than begging, but that was a feat of self deception beyond even him.

Steve added another finger and crooked it just right, and Tony felt his cock jump.

“Tick tock, Rogers,” he spit out as soon as he could form actual words again. “Get going.”

Steve groaned, and Tony felt his fingers slip away. An instant later they were replaced in a single brutal thrust by Steve’s cock.

He moaned in Tony’s ear. “Fuck. Fuck you are so good.” He pulled back and thrust again, and then again, hard and fast and dragging against what felt like every nerve in Tony’s body. “So good,” Steve repeated. “Need to—“ He grabbed Tony’s arms and pinned them against the wall, pressing his whole body against it and rutting up into him, his lips still inches from Tony’s ear. “Fuck, God, Tony.”

The cool concrete of the wall felt too rough on Tony’s cock to thrust against it—he was a masochist, sure, but even he had limits. That was OK, though, because with the way Steve was fucking him, gasping in his ear like taking Tony’s ass was the best thing he’d ever felt, Tony wasn’t going to need any more stimulation.

At this angle Steve’s cock pounded hard against Tony’s prostate at every thrust, not so much glancing off it as hammering into it. Tony’s world constricted to that sharp, fierce pleasure, followed immediately by deep, profound fullness as Steve pushed all the way in, and then the aching friction as he pulled back to start again. Steve’s hips setting a brutal rhythm—fast but not so fast that Tony couldn’t feel every part of the stroke every time.

Tony choked out a desperate moan—he was so close his whole body trembled with it. Steve echoed the sound and gave one final thrust, holding there, deep inside him while Tony came apart, throbbing and spattering all over himself and the wall. Steve dropped his head against Tony’s shoulder, biting through the shirt to muffle his groan as he spilled inside Tony.

When they could both breathe again, Steve pressed his lips to the spot on Tony’s shoulder and pulled back, but when Tony moved to turn, one hand landed squarely against his back and held him there.

Tony shivered, unsure what Steve was up to, but then he felt a cool pressure and a smooth fullness replacing Steve’s cock. He hummed softly, and then Steve did allow him to turn.

Tony did so slowly, exquisitely conscious of the plug and almost convinced he could actually feel Steve’s come inside him.

“You’ll leave it in?” Steve asked, his tone rough.

Tony bit his lip. There was no way he was going to get a damn thing done today if he did, but he couldn’t bring himself to refuse. But if he was going to be distracted all day, he would damn well at least return the favor. And then some.

He leaned in to whisper against Steve’s ear. “When we first— Before that, actually, you said you wanted to take me while I struggle.” Steve let out a little moan that Tony can’t take as anything but fervent agreement. “When you’re done with your briefing, get your ass back here and take me, and don’t stop unless you hear the safeword.” He pulled back to see Steve’s reaction, and sure enough found his pupils blown and a predatory look in his eyes that sent a little tremor running through him.

Steve grabbed the front of Tony’s shirt and pulled him in, crashing their lips together. Steve gripped the back of his head, and the way Steve’s tongue thrust into his mouth felt less like a kiss than like being fucked, being _taken_. Steve’s cock pressed against him, hard again already, and for an instant Tony thought—hoped—that Steve would blow off the briefing entirely and spend the afternoon fucking him into the floor.

“Goddamn,” Steve swore softly as he finally pulled away. “Teasing me like that. You’re going to pay for it when I get back.”

Tony grinned, hoping that it at least slightly hid the fact that Steve’s words blazed inside him, lighting up his every cell with fierce desire. “Do your worst, Cap.”

 

In truth, Tony knew that Steve’s worst couldn’t possibly be any more excruciating than the wait. He tried to distract himself, to get through some of his work, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything but the simplest, most mindless tasks, and he hated those. He did them anyway, half his mind on the light pressure of the plug, and the other half on what exactly Steve would want to do when he got back.

Three hours and forty one minutes later—and yes, he was fucking counting and who the hell would blame him—he heard footsteps once again. This time he turned immediately, and watched Steve enter the lab. Steve’s eyes fixed on him, raking up and down his body with a fierce hunger that made him feel violated in absolutely all the ways he craved.

Tony steeled himself. Much as he wouldn’t mind going to his knees, bending over for Steve, begging for it, that would ruin this particular game, and the heat in Steve’s eyes when Tony had suggested it told him that that would be an incredible shame.

So instead Tony watched as Steve approached, looking for an opening.

Steve didn’t give him one—the man looked like a predator staring down prey, watching for the moment when he would try to bolt, waiting until then to pounce.

So Tony took his best strategic option and waited for Steve to come to him. He kept his eyes on the play of Steve’s muscles under his skin, looking for the slight tensing that would warn him of Steve’s first move.

When it came, Tony dodged and skipped out of the way, or tried to, but Steve grabbed him by one hand and hauled him back. Tony managed to wrench his hand away, just barely, and aimed a kick for the side of Steve’s knee.

It was almost humiliating, the ease with which Steve evaded Tony’s kick, the way he recaptured Tony’s wrist without giving any indication that he was even really trying. Tony waited for Steve to grab for his other arm and pivoted sharply. Physics should have been on his side—that should have sent Steve flying, or at least stumbling, past him, but Steve caught himself easily and swept Tony’s legs out from under him.

Tony groaned. He hadn’t been holding back. Without his suit, or his gadgets, or his security, Tony could usually still hold his own in a fight. Prided himself on it—nobody expected it from a billionaire genius, even if he was hot stuff in his flying armor. But in just seconds, Steve had blown through all his best tricks and had him on the floor, pinned and vulnerable. Steve hadn’t even broken a sweat.

And that really was humiliating. Intellectually he already knew, of course, that on a purely physical level, he had zero chance of taking Steve Rogers. But having it proved—thoroughly, incontrovertibly demonstrated on the canvass of his body—felt like something else entirely. 

Something unspeakably hot, to be specific. Tony had never wanted anything more than he wanted Steve to fuck him right then.

But that wasn’t the point of the game, and Tony would be damned if he gave up and begged so quickly. So he struggled—really struggled, trying to roll out from under Steve, or at the very least keep him from getting his hands around to unfasten Tony’s pants.

Steve just pressed down on him, letting him strain his muscles against the immovable object that was Steve’s body. “You think you’ve got a chance?” Steve hissed into his ear. “You think there’s any way I can’t take you? You think there’s any way you can stop me from having you every way I want to?”

Tony groaned and tried to shift himself. Steve grabbed both his arms and wrenched them up behind him, keeping his legs pinned by the calves and using his free hand to pull at Tony’s pants. When they refused to budge without being properly unfastened, Steve pulled something out of his pocket, and Tony heard the soft snick of a pocket knife opening.

With the force of Steve’s arm behind it, the knife cut through one side of Tony’s pants with one long tear, and then Steve grabbed the material and yanked. The front seams bit into Tony’s flesh as the fabric tore away from him, leaving his backside bare.

Steve tossed the knife aside and moved to cover Tony’s body completely with his own. Tony could feel Steve’s erection pressing against him and wanted desperately to go limp and let Steve fuck him. He tried to struggle anyway, but realized, with a flood of humiliation that flushed his face and made his balls tighten, that his attempts at struggling weren’t in any appreciable way different from letting Steve do whatever he wanted.

“You’re getting it now, aren’t you?” Steve murmured, as he slipped a hand between them to grasp the end of the plug where it emerged from Tony’s ass. “I could make you beg,” he continued, pulling and pushing the little bit of silicone in a way that almost made him do just that. “I could make you scream,” he added, and moved to pull one of Tony’s arms further back until hot pain shot through him and he sobbed out a desperate little sound.

Steve released the arm, not that there was a damn thing Tony could do with it anyway.

“So now I’m going to fuck you. And maybe you’re whore enough to love every minute of it. Or maybe not. I really don’t give a damn.” Steve pulled the plug out, and Tony heard the rustle of his belt and the soft sound of his zipper opening. And then Tony felt Steve’s cock press against him, giving him a split second’s warning.

Tony always bought high quality lube. Top of the line—he tried them all, and his brand was by far the best. But even his lube only lasted so long, and by that point Tony had been wearing the plug for hours. So when he felt the head of Steve’s cock at his entrance, it only took him that split second to register that he was nearly dry, and Steve had clearly lubed himself only the bare minimum to prevent his own discomfort.

When he thrust in, stars bloomed in Tony’s vision, great white spots, and he heard a ragged cry from his own throat. The pain was exquisite, and didn’t fade even when Steve stopped still inside him. “Color?” he whispered.

Tony whimpered a little. “Yellow.” And then Steve pulled back slightly, the friction raw and hard and heady, pain racing through him and sparking gorgeous pleasure somewhere deep inside him, and he gasped a correction. “Green. Oh, fuck, Steve, green.”

Steve groaned and started to thrust, hard and fast. Tony tried to keep up his struggle, and after a few strokes Steve shifted to let him move his arms to his sides where he could use them to try to push himself up, or scramble forward, or shove Steve away. Of course, he could only _try_ to do all those things, because even with most of his attention fixed on the pleasure of fucking him, Steve’s strength and reflexes easily trumped Tony’s. Every attempt to get out from under Steve was met by firm, unyielding resistance, and harder thrusts.

Then again, those made a poor disincentive. And anyway, struggling to get free provided some distraction from the hot pleasure of Steve’s vicious, perfect strokes, and Tony wanted to make this last.

On one attempt his elbow caught a lucky blow against Steve’s solar plexus, and he managed to scramble forward several inches before Steve reached up and grabbed him by the hair, pulling him back and plunging back into him with a moan that made Tony’s whole body go weak.

Steve’s thrusts sped up, fucking into him harder and clenching his fist in Tony’s hair. “Think I’d let you go? When you... feel... this good? Fuck, I need it. Need you under me. Need to fill you up, make you beg. You want it?” Steve shifted slightly to change the angle of his next thrust, letting his cock press against Tony’s prostate and make him see stars.

Tony gasped out a “yes”—way too far gone to pretend that he could possibly want anything but more of this.

Steve grunted against Tony’s ear and thrust in once more before collapsing onto Tony, letting his sheer weight hold Tony down while Steve’s cock throbbed, filling him again.

Tony whined, so close but not quite there. He struggled again, this time trying to get a hand under him to give himself that one good stroke he needed, but Steve beat him to it, reaching between both their legs to grasp Tony’s balls and give them a gentle tug as he hissed into Tony’s ear. “Come for me.”

Tony felt his testicles tighten away from Steve’s hand, felt the delicious tension where Steve held on anway, felt the powerful mass of Steve’s body holding him down everywhere, and found himself powerless not to obey. He shuddered his pleasure, the sudden heat of his come spreading between his stomach and the floor while he gasped out reverent curses and tried to remember how to breathe.

Once the aftershocks finished rippling between their bodies, Steve lifted himself off and to the side, draping himself over Tony.

Tony allowed himself a few long, deep breaths before turning his head to grace Steve with his smuggest grin. “So... that work out as well for you as you hoped?”

Steve just groaned. “Better.”


End file.
